Wake Up Call
by Blizzaris
Summary: Apparently a little sleep was just too much to ask for.


H'oh mai Gawd. You can't believe it, can you? That's right, I actually posted something. I know, it's been a while (um, like, forever), and it's not even related to all those half-drabbles I have floating around on this computer somwhere. This was pulled directly from my pulled from my mind, vomited into a Word document then posted; yeah, not much in the way of proofreading and fixing. We may all be regretting this soon, but if you can somehow find some amusement in this, then I am content. I do apologize to all those who were expecting a proper fic from me!

And no, I have no clue where this came from. It's not even IkkiKazu! Ack. But I wanted to try out this POV, cuz it's really unique and quickly becoming one of my favourites, courtesy of the loverly Crimson Vixen. Erm… I hope I didn't butcher it?

I didn't want to bring cell phones into Air Gear, but it was the only way to fit that bit in I think. Oh, watch out for the strong language. I know I myself am I bit vulgar in the mornings, and the AG boys are worse than usual, so you know.

**Disclaimer**: As if.

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_Wake Up Call_

It was 3:24 in the morning and some loserface is throwing rocks at your window.

Asshole.

You flip the thick blue comforter over your head, mentally cursing their existence and reasoning that they must have the wrong window. It was probably your neighbour's daughter's boyfriend, trying to be romantic. Who the hell finds that romantic, anyway? Do they _like_ being woken up at some ungodly hour by stones being tossed at the window by someone who could very well be a rapist trying to get in? Does your neighbour even _have_ a daughter?

You ignore the more frequent attempts to get your attention via the window, blocking your ears to the sound, trying to slip into merciful dreamland.

_Crack_.

Oh, that was so not good. If that asshat broke your window, they were fucking buying you a new one. You inhale, letting the ventilation through your sinuses wake you up as best it can, and get off the bed, only your foot gets caught in the sheet and you fall the rest of the way, landing with a dull thud.

"Fuck!" You were never one for early morning humour.

Shimmying across the floor, still cocooned in your blankets, you somehow manage to poke your head between the window and the blind, crank open the pane of glass and slump over the sill, body complaining about the sudden activity. The cool night air wafts in, and you burrow a little further into your bedspread, probably looking like some retarded caterpillar, grumpy that it was bothered from eating. Or doing whatever it is caterpillars like to do.

Your sleep heavy eyes register the figure standing in the middle of your backyard; you groan. Of course it's Ikki – no other human is stupid enough to be pulling this stunt at 3 fucking 30 am. You glare as heatedly as you can in your groggy state at his cocky grin.

"You cracked my window, shithead." The tired slur of your words obscures the sentence, but he knows what you said.

A stone sails over your head and into your room. Ha freaking ha; he's the luckiest person on the planet that your morning fury stays in your mind, your body too confused to do anything about it. You make a mental note to punch him later, though.

"Well maybe you should have pulled your lazy ass outta bed sooner," he fires back. Bastard.

"Well _maybe_ some people like to be fucking _sleeping_ at this time. And I'm not coming down; pull your own pranks before 10 am," You withdraw your head from the window frame, pissed off at his immature idiocy yet again, reeling in the glass before he can get a word in edgewise. With the window now firmly closed, his muffled voice barely reaches your ears and you have no clue what he says, not that that's a problem. In fact, you feel slightly smug as you worm your way back to your mattress, looking forward to floating back into the Ikki-free realm of sleep.

You're almost there, when a mechanic beat jingles merrily around the room. Feeling the overwhelming need to break something, you violently grab your cell phone from amidst the sea of carpet, smash the power button and hurl the chunk of god-forsaken technology across the room, not even caring when you hear its agonized shriek as it hits the wall. Attempting to push aside your anger, you wait for the serene beckoning of sleep.

_Tak tikki tak tak._

_Those fucking stones_. You vow the next day you are going to go through your whole yard and remove every single rock from the earth. Every. Single. One. You don't care how long that'll take, but if it'll stop Ikki, it'll totally be worth it. To deal with the present matter, you scramble back to the window, slip under the blind, crank open the window and yell,

"_What the fuck do you want?!_"

If it were at all safe, you would leap out that window and strangle him, because that dumb little _smirk_ was on his face again. His voice, when he answers you, is layered with that arrogant tone that you so despise, and tonight (this morning?) it is only multiplied tenfold.

"Now will you come down?"

That is the last fucking straw.

"_No_, I will _not_ fucking come down! Get it through your thick skull, Itsuki Minami, I am _not_ indulging you in your idiotic little game, whatever it is! I want sleep, and if you can't give me that, then goodnight, adios, au revoir, sayonara, dumbass!" And just for good measure, feeling around behind you, you grab the first thing your hand comes into contact with, and throw it at Ikki's big head.

You miss.

The Kleenex box touches the ground unharmed with a quiet bump. You look at Ikki; he's looking at the box. You look at the box; then back at Ikki. He looks at you. Neither of you say anything.

"Did you actually just throw a tantrum?" Your face, flushed from your extreme irritation, only stays red in embarrassment, but you glare accusingly at Ikki just the same. Might as well try to salvage your remaining dignity, as poorly as that may be going.

"Why are you here, Ikki?" Your voice is worn out from your outburst, but suspicious all the same as you dodge his question, figuring it was probably rhetorical anyway. His wheeled toe absently nudges the cardboard box next to his right foot.

"Wanna come kick some Skull Sader ass for a while?"

Wait, what?

"You woke me up at 3:30 in the morning to ask me if I want to go kick some Skull Sader ass? What kind of loser does that?" You're incredulous; that's it? Seriously? No ridiculous practical joke on some unsuspecting team mate? Ikki's look is reproachful as he replies,

"Well, Kazu, are you coming?" You think about it. Y'know, sleeping used to be your favourite thing to do at almost 4 in the morning.

"…Yeah, I'll be down in a minute."


End file.
